Going Soft, Happens to All
by Deep Forest Green
Summary: When Éponine starts feeling suicidal, her best friend may be the only one who can help her. But will Montparnasse's cheap beauty tricks be enough to win the heart of Marius? And will he and Éponine be able to keep each other's secrets?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't ship Éponine/Montparnasse as anything more than friends and allies. I think Montparnasse was super gay and that that was part of what drove Éponine to Marius (though obviously there was a lot more to it than that). Yeah, I know they were semi-engaged in the Brick, but I don't think there was that kind of affection. I think it was an arrangement of convenience, but neither of them really wanted it. I prefer the dynamic they could have as friends. **

* * *

Éponine straggled into her best and only friend's lair- for that was the only word for the dark, rotting crawl space by the alley which he inhabited- after a long day of pickpocketing and running errands for her father. She was another day sadder and another day closer to starvation. Montparnasse wished there was something he could do to make her feel better, he truly did. In lieu of something real, he doffed his hat to her in mock chivalry as she pulled back the faux-velvet drapery that hid his squalid yet cozy nest from prying eyes.

"Hey, 'Ponine, you look glum. What's the matter?"

"None of your business," Éponine snapped. "It's stupid anyway."

"Come on, my girl, out with it. No one can keep a secret from me."

"No, really. I don't want to talk about it."

"If someone is hassling you, I can give him the old classic flick-of-the-switch- "

"It's not that," said Éponine sadly. "It's someone who's been very kind to me, in every way except one."

Montparnasse put his hands on his hips. "I've been kind to you, haven't I?"

"Yes, but this is different. This is someone who could really change my life for the better, but he just tosses me aside like I'm nothing."

Montparnasse smiled knowingly. "Ah, I bet I know who it is. It's that next-door neighbor of yours, isn't it? That law student? What was his name? The Baron of something-or-other- "

"Pontmercy," Éponine told him. "Marius. I just found out that he's in love with a bourgeois girl."

"Well, he's obviously blind to your subtle charms and beauty, my dear," said Montparnasse smoothly, taking her by the arm.

"You're not jealous? I thought for sure you would be."

"Nah. Though I would like to carve out his throat for what he did to the gang and your family. If it weren't for him, your father's plan would have gone perfectly."

"He didn't actually do anything, you know," said Éponine defensively.

"He tipped off the cops, remember? I don't call that doing nothing. Because of him, you spent two months in prison."

"I'd spend another two months in prison if it would make him notice me," said Éponine sadly.

"Snap out of it, girl!" Montparnasse scolded her, losing his patience. "I thought I taught you better than this. No wonder your father doesn't think you're an asset to the gang. You're way too emotional. Going to prison never accomplishes anything." Here he had a sudden flashback to a conversation he had had with an old man a few months ago, one whom he had tried to rob but who had gotten the better of him. He decided not to tell Éponine about this, as it would only worry her.

Suddenly Montparnasse said, "I think I know how to help. I can take this- " he gestured vaguely to her bony body- "and turn it into something beautiful."

Éponine nearly jumped. If there was one thing Montparnasse knew how to do besides rob and murder, it was how to make someone- or something- beautiful. "What's the catch?" she asked suspiciously. "What do you want from me in exchange?"

"Nothing," he replied.

"Nothing? Really? I don't believe you."

"My dear, I take pleasure in the satisfaction of a job well done. All I ask in exchange is your solemn promise that you'll go and talk to this boy, find out everything he knows."

"About what?"

"About everything."

Éponine folded her arms. "'Parnasse, I highly doubt that he knows anything that would be useful to us."

"Then go to him with your beauty and make him yours. And if he still refuses you- teach him a lesson." He made a swish-and-flicker motion.

Éponine gasped in horror. "'Parnasse, you know I could never hurt Marius! I love him! Don't you know what that means?"

"'Fraid not." He shrugged carelessly. "I bet you'd hurt him if you got pushed to the limit, though."

"You've never loved anyone?" she challenged him. "You honestly have no idea how it feels?"

"Me? Ha! I have no soul, Éponine; you of all people ought to know that. I have no capacity to love anyone; I simply do not allow it."

"How I wish I had thought to do that before it happened!" Éponine said sarcastically, gesturing wildly with her arms. "Simply do not permit it; say, no more, love is not for me but for fools. How convenient, Montparnasse! How easy to wall off one's heart! And to think that all this time I thought you cared for me!"

"Oh, I never said I didn't care for you," said Montparnasse, leaning back against the creaky wall. "In fact, I am quite fond of you. I just never saw you in the way that everyone presumes."

"Y- you don't?"

Éponine knew it; she had known it all along; it was no surprise. Nevertheless, she slumped onto the worn-out ottoman cushion in disappointment. Her fragile ego simply could not afford to hear another man tell her that he didn't see her "in that way". Not that she would have wanted him; not that she would have seen him in the same way she saw Marius. But that could be even a greater comfort, to have so many men desiring her that she had the luxury of saying no. She wondered vaguely for a moment what it would be like if Montparnasse had been born into a bourgeois family, if he would still enjoy the same hobbies; but she stopped because she couldn't imagine it. She took instead to wondering what would happen if Marius and Montparnasse were to trade places for a day. She doubted that Marius would survive a day in her world, but that was part of why she loved him. He and Montparnasse were complimentary, in a way; same slick black hair, same fair complexion, same ivory teeth, red lips, strong hands, seductive voice. She envied Montparnasse his ability to stay like an embalmed corpse while she rotted on the outside. She thought that Marius was the unspoiled version of Montparnasse. Éponine wished that Montparnasse would let her borrow some of his unspoiled youthful beauty just for a day, just for long enough to win over Marius. She had always regretted that she had not been able to love Montparnasse "in that way", thinking that it meant there was something wrong with her; but now she was quite glad that she had dodged that bullet.

"You're depressed," Montparnasse observed, approaching her. "Here, have some opium."

Éponine got up. "'Parnasse, if you're not attracted to me, why do you keep up this ruse?"

"Because it's easier than the truth."

"What's the truth?" Éponine asked him.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Éponine challenged him.

"The truth is, that I am not... I do not... love women."

Éponine wrinkled her brow. "I'm afraid I don't understand," she said.

"See? I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"But if you don't love women, then who do you love?" Éponine asked, afraid that she already knew the answer.

"If you ever tell anyone what I'm about to say, I'll slit your throat," Montparnasse warned her menacingly.

Éponine looked up at him in tired defiance. "Slit my throat right now, if you want to. I don't care. I'd welcome it."

Montparnasse took a deep breath. "...Men."

Montparnasse was so surprised when Éponine started laughing that he jumped a foot back. "You mean, like sodomy?" she asked, unable to control herself.

"You're the only one I can tell," he said, expertly making his admission of vulnerability sound like a threat. "You know what your father would do to me if he knew."

"My father can be surprisingly tolerant in such matters," she said, with a touch of humor.

"You know what I mean. If the marriage is called off- "

"The marriage was never going to be to begin with." She shifted confidently in her seat and sat up straight with her hands folded in her lap. "And it's not like you have much to offer the family that we don't already have."

"You truly are beautiful, Éponine," he said sincerely, coming closer again. "But you're like a sister to me. Even I can see that, and I can't control my urges."

Éponine laughed drily. "You'd make a great brother, 'Parnasse. I'd rather it be you walking me down the aisle on my wedding day than my pa."

"We both have our own ways of coping, I guess," said Montparnasse, leaning down and beginning to apply the lightest touches of primer to her face. "You have Marius, I have all this." He gestured vaguely to the maroon curtains, the mirrors, the roses with which he decorated his tiny corner of the world. "Who am I to steer you away from your way of dealing with all the shit you put up with every day? To each his own, that's what I say. Your secrets are safe with me."

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**A/N: What do you guys think? I may continue this into a two or three-shot if I get enough feedback, so we can see what happens when Montparnasse is done and he has to persuade Éponine to go to Marius' door and actually (gulp) talk to him. But I don't really ship Marponine either, so I don't know how to make you guys happy!**

**Also, please tell me if you think either of the characters are OOC. I have no respect for Montparnasse-in-Leather-Pants.**


	2. Chapter 2

When Montparnasse was finished with Éponine, he turned her around and showed her how she looked in the mirror. She barely recognized herself. Her hair was neatly combed and piled high atop her head in a French braid, her bruises and sunken cheeks smoothly glossed over with mascara, her chapped lips given a cherubic sheen. He tossed some new cloths and a sewing kit so she could make a somewhat presentable patchwork dress. But in spite of it all, she knew she could never pass for a bourgeois. She just didn't have the right aura. She was too sad, too angry, too damaged.

"It's perfect," he said, clapping his hands together with satisfaction. "Perfect."

"Everyone knows that the only girls who wear makeup are whores," said Éponine with disgust, turning away. "I'm no whore. At least, not yet."

"The makeup is subtle enough that you won't give that impression. He can't not notice you now," Montparnasse remarked proudly. "Now go get some beauty sleep. Don't let anyone beat you between now and tomorrow morning, 'cause that's when you'll be going to see Marius."

"I- I don't know if I can do it," Éponine stammered.

Montparnasse straightened. "Girl, if you don't talk to Marius after all I've done for you, I'll slap that makeup off your face faster than you can say 'Look what's become of me'," he snarled. "Remember, we had a deal."

The fear of facing an angry Montparnasse was worse than the fear of facing Marius' rejection. She looked in the mirror again sadly and nodded.

"I need to look like Cosette," said Éponine.

"No, you need to look like yourself, only prettier. He can't look at you and be reminded of Cosette. He needs to see your own charms."

"He's seen my own charms," Éponine remarked dejectedly. "He doesn't like them. They're not charming to him. The only charms that charm him are the charms of Cosette."

"Éponine, how can you say that? He just needs to have his eyes opened. Why, if I were attracted to women, I would court you in a heartbeat."

Éponine rolled her eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

Montparnasse shrugged carelessly. "That's your makeover. Take it or leave it, but I'm not doing it again."

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**A/N: Short one, I know, but I probably won't expand this beyond a five-shot. Still don't know where it's going. Don't forget to review! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: By the way, Thénardier/Jondrette in this is played by Jack Nicholson c. The Shining. Montparnasse is played by François Arnaud (Cesare in The Borgias). Éponine is played by whoever the reader likes to imagine. Please review! **

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"Now let's go over how you're going to speak and behave to Marius," said Montparnasse eagerly. "'Cause as we both know, it ain't all about looks."

"I thought you said I should just be myself," said Éponine, confused.

"To a certain extent. There's always a limit."

"Well, what do you know about behaving like a bourgeois? You've been poor even longer than I have."

Montparnasse punched her in the shoulder, and she winced in pain even though he hadn't hit her that hard. "Count yourself lucky that I value my art so much, or that would've gone right in the face," he said. "It still might, if you test me again. I'm not going to teach you how to be a rich girl. I'm going to teach you how to speak to his more primal desires. It is widely acknowledged that poor girls hold an advantage over rich ones in this regard. Show up at his doorstep, looking sad and lost and lonely- "

"Like a prostitute?"

"No! You're going to play hard to get, you see? This Marius clearly loves the thrill of the chase, and we're going to give it to him. First appeal to his sense of empathy, then hit him with the big guns. Bat a few eyelashes, sway your hips, flash a little cleavage, you know. Things like that."

"I don't know about this," said Éponine hesitantly. "I want Marius to fall in love with me, not just a false idea of me."

"But you fell in love with the idea of him, so it would be quite fitting," Montparnasse remarked candidly. "Once you've got him hooked, visit him more frequently, like every day, and he'll keep coming back for more. He'll forget all about Cosette when he's caught up in your aura of mystery. There's nothing a rich boy loves more than a seductress of a charity case. He'll feel good on the inside and the outside when he's inside you. Now let's practice. I'll be Marius, and you be you. Knock, knock. What is it, Éponine? I haven't seen you in a while."

Éponine smiled slightly to herself. She could pretend for a moment that Montparnasse was Marius; yes, this she could do. "Good morning, m'sieur," said Éponine with a coquettish curtsy. "I just wanted to check in on you. Is there anything you need me to do for you today?"

"Modesty, Éponine, subtlety," whispered Montparnasse, then switched back into his Marius impression. "Why, yes, Éponine, in fact there is. How kind of you to ask, and to take the initiative. Come inside. Tell me, how is the search for my beloved coming along?"

Éponine blushed. She knew that Marius would never invite her inside his apartment; the one time she had entered before, he had stared at her anxiously waiting for her to leave. She swallowed and looked up at Montparnasse's scowling face. "Oh, m'sieur," she said, summoning a tear to her eye, "I don't think it's the best idea for me to go looking for her anymore. I don't feel safe out there. Papa would beat me if he knew that I was doing your errands when I should be doing his."

"That's terrible, Éponine," said Montparnasse, taking her by the shoulder. "I wish there was something I could do to help you."

"Well, I always need money," said Éponine, looking down at the floor. "But I don't feel good about taking charity. I'd rather earn the money myself. I'd do anything to earn your money, m'sieur, but this business with the girl is just too dangerous. You see... I don't know how to tell you this, but my father has it in for hers."

Montparnasse gasped in mock horror. "What?"

Éponine nodded sadly. "Yes, m'sieur, it's true. Remember when the cops broke into our apartment and the old man made a break for it? Well, I think he's a criminal, on the run from the law, and he's afraid of being turned in to the police. He may even flee the country now that Javert is suspicious. I tell you, m'sieur, I wouldn't get involved with her if I were you."

"No, I won't," said Montparnasse in exaggerated fear, "because I'm a spoiled, petty, judgmental bourgeois coward who can't stand to be in any sort of danger at all."

"'Parnasse!"

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"If Marius was a coward, do you think he'd have been living here?"

"You were doing good, 'Ponine, up until the end. You came off too much like a whore. Let's try it again."

Suddenly a rough voice exploded behind them. "'Ponine, what on earth are you doing here? Where have you been, girl? I've looked everywhere for you! Get back home this instant! And what are you doing with that awful makeup? What has 'Parnasse put you up to this time?"

"Papa," Éponine said in shock, with Montparnasse standing behind her. "I was just about to come home. I- I'm sorry."

"Sorry don't cut it with me, girl," said Jondrette, grabbing her arm. "Not this time. And you still haven't answered my questions." He shot a warning look at Montparnasse, who glared back at him defiantly.

Éponine didn't dare to say that she had lost track of them because they all jumbled together. "I- I needed a drink," she said truthfully. "We're all out of rum at home."

"I don't buy it, girl," snarled Jondrette. "You little slut, letting 'Parnasse deck you out like this- "

"No, Papa, it's not what you think! We don't see each other that way! He was just helping me- "

"Helping you what? Become a whore?"

"No, it's just- " she stammered. She couldn't tell him.

"Wash that shit off your face right now," Jondrette ordered her.

"There's no water left. We barely have enough for drinking and cooking, and none for bathing."

"You should've thought of that before you went and got yourself made up like this," Jondrette said angrily. "When I want you to become a whore, I'll tell you. But right now I need you as a watchdog and messenger, capiche?"

"That's his way of saying he cares about you," Montparnasse told her.

"Stay out of this, you little punk," Jondrette warned, pointing a bony finger at the boy. "If I ever catch you doing something like this to my daughter again- "

"He didn't put me up to anything, Papa," Éponine confessed. "I asked him to do this."

"Why? Did you think it would make you better than us? Did you think it would make you less hungry? What?"

"Maybe we should just tell him," Montparnasse whispered into Éponine's hair. "After all, the boy's rich. He might approve."

"Approve of what? You two were planning to go over my head?"

"Marius Pontmercy," Éponine told him. "Our former neighbor."

"I know who Pontmercy is, you nitwit! Believe me, if I thought there was any dough to be made in seducing him, I'd have sent you after him long ago. Foolish boy is about as thick as a brick wall. Believes in honor and crap like that."

"He owes you a debt, Papa," Éponine reminded him coolly. "A debt which he'll do anything to repay."

"Nah, he won't give me anything now. Not after what he saw back in February." Jondrette stuffed his hands into his pockets and hunched over in resignation.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't been so damn careless we might've gotten the money and Marius' favor too," Montparnasse said boldly.

"Shut up, boy! I was talking to the girl!"

"Papa, if there's even a chance of us getting money from Marius, we should take it," said Éponine pragmatically.

"You can't get past me, girl. I know that your reasons for wanting to sleep with Pontmercy are entirely selfish. I know you're obsessed with him."

"It's called being in love," Éponine said firmly, hands on hips. "And yes, I am. Why shouldn't I be?"

"It gets in the way," Jondrette snarled, rubbing his fingers together for emphasis. "I don't give a shit who it's with, love is always in the way. Now come with me, Éponine, and we'll see if this feeling can't be beaten out of you."

"Papa!"

"It's for your own good," Jondrette hissed, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her outside into the night air.

"Jondrette, if you harm that girl, I swear you're out of the gang. I worked hard on that face job."

Jondrette turned to face Montparnasse the way a rat turns to face someone who holds a lantern above its head in the dark. "What did you say, boy?"

"You already fucked us over once by picking on the wrong bourgeois at the wrong time. Babet wants you gone. You haven't got any skills and you're just gonna get us into more trouble again and again."

Jondrette was floored. "So the little magician wants me out of the deal, huh? We'll see about that." He didn't dare show it, but he actually felt hurt and betrayed. After all, he had been this kid's mentor. Montparnasse was like one of his own children. With him and Éponine against him, he felt completely and utterly alone.

"You're not cut out for this," Montparnasse said frankly. "You don't have the brains or the balls. You were born to be an innkeeper who cheats people, not a hardened criminal. I'd feel sorry for you if you didn't disgust me so much. I suggest you go back to whatever little town you came from and pick up where you left off." He turned to Éponine. "'Ponine, your father is a weak, spineless, stupid, cowardly, worthless piece of shit," he said in a deadpan voice.

"You're no one to talk," Jondrette began, but Éponine, sensing a fright brewing, stepped between them and held out her arms for them to stop.

"'Parnasse, calm down," she told her friend. "You're not thinking this through clearly. We need Papa, all of us do. Sure, he may be a petty thief, but if you kicked him out of the gang, you'd be making a big mistake."

"Why are you sticking up for that cockroach?" Montparnasse demanded. "Besides the obvious reason, I mean." He clicked his tongue. "That's my Éponine. Always looking out for number one." Suddenly he had an idea. "How about a compromise? I'll talk to Babet and make sure Jondrette stays in the gang, but only if Jondrette promises to stay the hell out of Éponine's business."

"My daughter's business is my business too," Jondrette said defiantly.

"Fine," said Montparnasse with a shrug. "Then starve."

"All right," Jondrette acquiesed reluctantly, timidly, like a dog with its tail between its legs, whimpering. "I hope you like this arrangement, 'Ponine, 'cause you've just agreed to become a whore. One way or another, I expect some dough out of this operation to fall into my hands."

"It's not whoring if I only do it for one person," Éponine protested, but Montparnasse cut her off.

"Jondrette," he said in a sing-songy voice, twirling a switchblade, "remember our agreement."

Jondrette rolled his eyes. "Come w'me, 'Ponine," he said, beckoning to his daughter. "Let's go find a place to get some shut-eye."

"She's staying with me," Montparnasse said firmly. "Such reluctance, monsieur! I thought you would be overjoyed that your daughter finally has a shot with the son of the man whose life you saved at Waterloo."

Jondrette froze. "What? It was that Pontmercy- Georges'- the colonel's- he was next door to us the whole time?"

"See, I told you he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer," said Montparnasse offhandedly towards Éponine. "Changes things, doesn't it? That's why he hesitated before he tipped off the police. It has a poetic symmetry to it that I like very much. Pontmercy and Thénardier, two generations of alliance."

Jondrette's greed finally overcame his pride, and he smiled, sous swimming in his bleary eyes along with the cataracts. "I couldn't have come up with a better plan myself," he snarled.

"That's for sure," Montparnasse remarked. Jondrette again felt a rush of anger that he had walked right into the younger man's trap, but was too excited to care.

"My child," said Jondrette to his daughter, drawing her close and taking her bony hand in his, "I give you and Marius Pontmercy my... deepest blessing."

Jondrette walked away in self-satisfaction, and Éponine and Montparnasse were left wondering if to be blessed by the devil was to be truly cursed.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Éponine woke up groggily on top of a few cushions that Montparnasse had laid out in the corner for her. Immediately she went to go check herself in the mirror. Her hair was straggly as always, but other than that, her makeup had stayed pretty much as it was the night before. She praised herself for remembering to sleep on her back and move very little so as not to disturb it.

"Are you ready?" Montparnasse asked, seeing her squatting form.

Éponine swallowed. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Be excited, girl! This is the day your pathetic life starts looking up." He batted her on the back, and she barely noticed. "Do you want to go over it one more time?"

She shook her head. "Nah, I think I'm ready."

"What about breakfast? Don't tell me you forgot about breakfast. Can't seduce Marius on an empty stomach."

Actually, Éponine had forgotten about breakfast, and she didn't appreciate being reminded of how poor her family was. No wonder her father didn't like Montparnasse- the boy was too impractical, valuing bourgeois ideas like beauty when there was convenience to be had in grittiness.

"Rat meat and bread crusts," Montparnasse announced proudly when she only blinked in response. "Enjoy!"

Éponine wolfed down her breakfast, which was the best she had had in days. Montparnasse chuckled at her atrocious manners, meanwhile eating the same food himself and secretly envying the sheer rate at which she was taking in calories. When you didn't have a dozen rat traps in your hole, you couldn't afford to be delicate about your eating habits. She quickly picked her teeth clean, dragged a comb through her hair, and headed out the crack into the street with her best friend.

"We should have done this last night," he said regretfully, leading her through a back alley to Marius' new home which she had shown him. "He would've been home, expecting it. Seducing a man in the morning- only in France, I suppose."

"Last night I was exhausted," Éponine reminded him.

"Well, just be glad it's a Saturday. He doesn't have school, work, or mass to go to."

"He's a busy man. He has to make ends meet too. He might still be out."

"This is where we part ways," said Montparnasse, stopping just behind the building where Marius now lived. "I can't be seen with you from here on out."

"Thanks a million, 'Parnasse," Éponine said gratefully, clasping his hands. "If this works out, you can bet I'll find a way to repay you."

Montparnasse grinned. "You know I'll hold you to that," he said before disappearing down the block.

* * *

Marius' new home, while certainly not luxurious, was a far cry from the Gorbeau hovel. Walking up the steps, Éponine felt intimidated, very conscious of the fact that she didn't belong. But she knew she could use that fact to her advantage, to try to make herself seem like a girl who had gotten lost in the bad side of town and needed Marius to save her from her own mistakes and her own rotten life. It was due to her family that he was living here in this apartment shared with Courfeyrac instead of next door in the Gorbeau house. Oh, how she hated her father for driving Marius away! Sooner or later, one way or another, she would get her revenge on him.

Finally Éponine arrived at the correct room and stopped in front of the door. She looked around to make sure no one was watching, and reached out hesitantly towards the door, afraid that her grimy hands would contaminate it. All at once she mustered the nerve to knock, which she did loudly and rapidly, defying every instinct she had nourished since moving to the slums.

Her heart skipped a beat when the door opened only a few seconds after she had knocked. No sooner had a figure appeared in the doorway then her face fell, her stomach sinking in bitter disappointment. It wasn't Marius, it was another young man who must be Courfeyrac. He stared at her in confusion.

"Can I help you... mademoiselle?" he asked awkwardly.

Éponine curtsied nervously and put on a fake smile. "Yes, M'sieur... Is M'sieur Pontmercy at home?"

"Yes," said Courfeyrac, and Éponine's spirits soared. "Is he expecting you?"

Éponine was lost. Why hadn't it occurred to her that Courfeyrac would be the one to answer the door? Why hadn't Montparnasse anticipated this situation? Now she had to deal with an entirely new person she knew nothing about. Well, no matter. Like the Thénardier she was, she would think on her feet.

"No," said Éponine honestly. "The truth is, I don't have anywhere else to go. I knew that M'sieur Pontmercy was feeling down 'cause of missing Cosette, and we might comfort each other."

"Missing Cosette?" Courfeyrac narrowed his eyebrows, growing suspicious. "What on earth are you talking about? They meet nearly every evening at her house, so I heard. How do you know about that, anyway?"

Éponine gulped and backtracked quickly. "Well, you see, her father doesn't approve of the match. He doesn't even know about the courtship. I knew M'sieur Marius hates hiding his feelings, and he has too much honor to keep going behind the old man's back. So I thought I'd give him something he wouldn't have to hide."

Éponine's discourse triggered all Courfeyrac's alarms of fraternal concern, and he would have shut her out right then and there if he hadn't been sizing her up himself. Suddenly Marius' voice, coming from deep within the room, cut through Courfeyrac's dilemma.

"Gabriel, who is it?"

"Some gamine named Éponine," Courfeyrac responded. "She says she knows you."

"Éponine," said Marius, searching for the name in his brain. Suddenly he remembered the robbery- how could he forget? "Let her in."

Éponine couldn't believe her luck. Now she was actually inside Marius' apartment! She had never expected to get this far this soon. Glowing but terrified, she entered the shared chamber.

"Éponine," said Marius, looking at his old acquaintance for the first time in months. "You look... different."

"Thank you, M'sieur," said Éponine with an airy laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It seems as though your makeup is trying to conceal how dangerously thin you've become," he observed.

Éponine frowned. Well, her plan had kind of gone out the window.

"Courfeyrac," said Marius, turning to his friend, "will you leave us for a minute?"

"Yes, mon ami," said Courfeyrac hesitantly. "But I caution you to make prudent decisions in your dealings with this gamine."

"Do not worry for my sake," Marius reassured him. "Éponine and I have known each other for quite some time. We used to be neighbors." Éponine knew that he was exaggerating the closeness of their former relationship, but she didn't care. Marius was standing up for her!

"It's good to reconnect with old friends," said Éponine once Courfeyrac had stepped outside, taking a step closer to Marius.

"Yes, but- "

"Don't say it," said Éponine, averting her gaze. "You don't see us as friends. Perhaps as something more... "

"Éponine, you're even bonier than you were when I last saw you, and that's saying something," Marius cut in. "You don't have time to make calls halfway across town. Go find yourself something to eat."

"Prison will do that to you," said Éponine. "You know what they say, that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Wha- "

"You have your Cosette now," said Éponine, putting her hand on his chest and smiling up into his face. "You know what I mean, then, what tragic poetry it is to fall in love, not knowing whether they return your feelings... "

"But I do know that Cosette loves me in return," said Marius, pushing her away. "She waits for me in her garden every night."

"That's not love," said Éponine, her rough alcoholic voice turning to smooth honey. "Love is a willingness to get off your ass, not wait for everything to be handed to you."

"Éponine, I think you should leave," said Marius sternly.

Oh no. She couldn't let this happen. She wouldn't repay Montparnasse's favor without getting her own due first in return. She began to grow desperate. "Marius, I love you," she said.

"You love me?" Marius repeated incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because I just wanted to see you happy," said Éponine, her crocodile tears mixing in with the real ones. "I let you pay me to find Cosette for you, but it was only when I brought you to the gate that I realized how much I truly cared, and how it broke my heart... "

"How can I know if that's true? How can I trust anything you say ever again?"

"I'm not like my father," said Éponine, throwing herself at his feet. "I swear. I don't belong with him, I belong with you, in your arms... "

"Éponine, I think I know perfectly well where you belong." He handed her a gold coin. "Here. Take this and never come to see me again."

"That's your solution to everything," she sobbed. "You think you can just pay people to do things for you or leave you alone. Well, M'sieur Baron, the real world doesn't work that way! It's time you opened your goddamned eyes!" And with that, she stormed out of the apartment without realizing it until she was outside.

What a fool she had been! What idiot would leave when she was supposed to be seducing him? Now he would actively hate her forever, and she'd never have a second chance. In her misery, she collapsed into the corner and began to cry, only to see Courfeyrac standing in the stairs.

"I take it it didn't go well," he said. "You didn't get what you wanted?"

"I got this," Éponine said, showing him the gold coin Marius had given her.

"No goods or services exchanged?" he asked, emphasizing the word 'services'. "You were barely in there a minute." Éponine shrugged. "That coin won't cover you for a week. Here, let me give you some more."

"You would support the girl who threw herself vainly at your best friend?" Éponine asked bitterly.

"I would. But I'd demand something in exchange."

Éponine got up and began to back away. "Oh no, M'sieur, I don't do that... "

"So now you deny it, eh? Seems to me it's all you were trying to do."

Eponine swallowed her pride and approached the man slowly. Well, she could always lie.

"Just this once," she said. "I don't make a habit out of it."


	5. Chapter 5

"The bet is off," said Éponine as she straggled listlessly into Montparnasse's lair. She had run back as fast as she could, not caring who saw her. She didn't know how she could ever face Marius again. But how could she not face him?

"So I take it you failed?" he asked, grabbing her arm roughly as she attempted to push past him. "You're trying to weasel your way out of this one, too? Oh, no, you rascal. I held up my end of the bargain and one way or another, I'm going to get paid."

"I'll do anything you ask," said Éponine. "I know you don't want me that way."

"You're right. I don't, but I'll find something for you to do. You will be my plaything, Éponine, my little experiment. I'm going to keep dolling you up until something comes of it."

"I can't believe it," she said, carelessly wiping the makeup off her face. "It didn't work."

"I can't believe it either," said Montparnasse furiously, putting his arms on his hips and beginning to pace about with purpose. "By God, he'll pay for this insult! If I have to challenge him to a duel- "

"Montparnasse, no!" Éponine admonished him, terrified of what kinds of revenge her friend might dole out in her name. "It's all right. Really."

"No, it's not all right," said Montparnasse stubbornly. "This just goes to prove what I said from the start. He doesn't deserve you. But you were right, too- love can sometimes, indeed, be selfless, even a Jondrette's love." Éponine gaped. She couldn't remember the last time Montparnasse ever admitted to being wrong. "Don't give up just yet, 'Ponine," he continued. "It's too early to call it quits. Give it time. He may still wake up. If you truly want him, then I say keep shooting for the stars."

"I think I can respect him more now," said Éponine, pulling away from him. "For not trying to take advantage of me. Other boys wouldn't have done that."

"You know, 'Ponine, I admire your ambition," said Montparnasse, smiling down at her. "Truly, I do. I know you think I am being insincere, but the truth is that I envy your optimism and determination. Maybe it's because of my attraction towards men, upon which I can never act, but I never saw any hope for myself as anything other than a thief and idler. I was too cynical to fall in love, especially with a rich boy. I think that if anyone can save your family from the hole your father dug you all into, it's you."

"Thank you, 'Parnasse," said Éponine. "You know, you're my best friend. My only friend, really. You'd kill for me, and I appreciate that."

"What about Azelma?" Montparnasse asked.

"She's my sister. She doesn't count."

"Tell me about Marius Pontmercy," said Montparnasse smoothly. "Is he very handsome?"

"Oh yes," said Éponine, leaning in and whispering into his ear. "He has rich, smooth, creamy hair the color of dark chocolate, just like yours... "

"I think I'm smitten already," Montparnasse said, teasing her. "Tell me more."

"Oh no you don't!" said Éponine defensively, half-jokingly. "He's mine! I mean, he's my idea, but he belongs to Cosette, he's attracted to girls, rich girls... "

"Calm down, 'Ponine," he said, laughing. "It's not as if I actually thought I'd have a shot with him."

"Are you making fun of me?" Éponine accused.

"No! I'm trying to help. That's what friends do."

Suddenly a look of sheer terror crossed Éponine's face. "Oh no," she said. "My father will be here any minute- he'll find out that I failed and he'll kill me! What will I do? I'll have to hide- hide me!"

"Not if I kill him first," said Montparnasse, pulling out his dagger with steely eyes.

"'Parnasse- "

"I meant what I said about your father being out of the gang," Montparnasse told her gravely, casting his eyes around in shifty glances. "And I told the truth when I told him Babet wanted him gone. Now you know what that entails."

"'Parnasse, as much as I may hate him sometimes, he's still my father. He may be a scoundrel and a fool, but he does do his best to provide for our family. Please, 'Parnasse, he's one of the few people I have left in this world."

"Fine," said Montparnasse. "I won't kill him. Or at least do my best not to- no guarantees, no regrets. I'll just seriously injure him. But then we make a break for it together. Run home and say goodbye to your mother and sister now, 'Ponine, 'cause you'll never see them again."

"'Parnasse, where would we go?" Éponine asked desperately, tugging at his collar. "We moved to Paris and changed our name exactly to avoid a situation like this. Everyone knows that Paris is the best place in France for people who want to disappear."

"Paris is a big city," said Montparnasse. "We could move to another neighborhood. 'Sides, no one will come after us. The cops won't bother; if anything, they'd reward us. And like I said, the gang would look the other way. We'd be safe- or at least, in no more danger than we already are."

A bald, bony face with a long, scraggly beard smelling of opium poked its shaggy self into the crevice and smiled. "'Ponine, how 'bout that money?"

"Thénardier," Montparnasse snarled, refusing any longer to call the crook by his alias.

"Cough up, girl," said Thénardier, looking at his daughter. "I know you made a good profit today; I can smell it on you. Hand it over."

"Here," said Montparnasse, reaching into his satchel and handing Thénardier a decent sum of money. "She gave it to me. Take it."

Thenardier paused for a moment, suspecting that Montparnasse was covering for Éponine's lack of productivity, but he shoved it aside. Even if he was, what did it matter to him? He snatched up the money and retreated back into the alley without another sound.

"'Parnasse, I can't believe it," said Éponine when he had left. "You didn't have to do that! And after what you said to me! You just gave him a week's profits! How will you eat?"

"I have my methods, 'Ponine," said Montparnasse smugly. "All that money was fake. Babet and Claquesous are excellent counterfeiters."

Éponine smiled for a moment, then her eyes widened in terror. "What if Papa finds out?" she asked desperately. "'Parnasse, he'll kill you!"

"Nah, he won't," said Montparnasse offhandedly. "That money will be long gone by the time anyone realizes it's fake. The chances of someone tracing it back to me are practically zero."

"So for all practical purposes, you just gave him a week's worth of living money," she said, glowing with admiration and relief.

Montparnasse nodded.

"What happened to rescuing me from my life of wretchedness?"

"As for that, 'Ponine, I don't think you need either me or Marius. I think the only person you need to rely on is yourself."

**THE END **


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